Valentine's Day Massacre
by Richard Chaos
Summary: Dedicated to those I'd leave to kill last.


"_**Massacre, slaughter, who cares what word they use? All that matters is it'll be FUN!"**_

It was a grand hall, built especially for these types of occasions. A gathering of the social elite, the upper class, the type of people who couldn't possibly be touched by the horrors of the normal world.

It was decorated lavishly with large displays of red randomly spread across the flawless wooden walls. Hearts, flowers, balloons shaped like hearts and all the sorts of cliché paraphernalia that made the day what it was. Valentine's Day.

An elderly man checked his watch, impatient for when the real festivities were going to begin. He wore nothing more than the usual attire for these type of gatherings; a nice suit and tie. Merely one of the crowd.

A string quartet were already providing the event with a sound track, their romantic waves of music flooded the air and struck even the coldest ear as pleasant. Or most of them, anyway. Little did he know the festivities were already on their way.

"I could probably squeeze in one more visit to the rest room," he said to himself as he attempted to navigate his way past those already present in the hall. His first failure came with a bump, dead centre of the hall. He looked up to see a young woman, dressed in the purest of white.

"Oh. I'm sorry," she stated simply. She wore an expression of utter calmness, the only thing that seemed to be disturbed from the minor collision was the position of her blonde hair. The man swallowed and straightened himself.

"Oh, not at all. Entirely my fault," he responded in a rush. He was only greeted with continued serenity and silence. He nodded politely and hurried along. The old man was heading for a set of double doors, the only way in and out of the hall of the building. His second and unfortunately final failure would come as he opened the doors.

A man also wearing only white confronted him, with menacing blue eyes and a sadistic grin on his face. The elderly man had no time to take in these details however, as a shotgun was raised and shoved uncomfortably close up to his face. He quaked in fear, his feet only managing to take him back the tiniest of steps.

The music came to an abrupt halt as the room started to take notice, a chorus of gasps followed. The only sound audible afterwards were the footsteps of the men up front.

"Hey, hey. Old man?" The white suited male spoke as if he was asking. But he continued before a response could be given. "Do you think you're going to die?"

"N-no!" the old man in question responded, his feet still only permitting him slow steps backward. The shotgun was most certainly loaded and ready to fire, there was no mistaking that. But why would he be killed, surely this man would have some sort of ransom in mind. "I-I think you're going to put the gun down and tell us what you want..."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," the armed man replied which was quickly followed by the sound of his weapon going off. The old man was blasted away, the force lifting him from his feet and sending him backwards into a harsh landing. Not that it mattered, as an unpleasant hole now replaced the picture that was his face. "Because I'm Ladd Russo and I kill people like you."

The white wearing woman in the centre of the hall appeared to smile, the silence being pierced by the inevitable scream. Panic ensued, the realisation this lunatic was at the only exit striking every man, woman and child in the hall.

The first would-be hero of the hall emerged, close enough to the doors himself to risk running towards this man. He was greeted with the shotgun ejecting another blast, tearing through his guts and sending him crashing to the floor. There was no doubt he was going to die.

"There was only one of you I was simply hired to kill in this room," Ladd seemed to begin to explain, no hint of remorse in his voice; there was only joy.

Some of the blood spatter from his two shots had already stained his suit. "But then I saw all of you. The higher beings, with your money and your party. Swanning around, like nothing could touch you! Then I thought to myself... 'Hey, Ladd? Wouldn't it be amazing to slaughter the room and show them all the true nature of this world?' So here I am. Or, here **we **are."

On this verbal cue, more men in white suits began to enter the room. Each of them with a weapon of their own. It was a compact group of white suits, only numbering at six including Ladd himself. It had been decided that any more than that wouldn't have given everyone a fair share.

"Now see here!" another elderly gentleman who had had more than enough of this situation stepped forward. However before he could state any sort of case, a round from a handgun had found its way to spray the people behind him with the brains of their second would-be hero.

The giggling from the new white suit who had committed this act drowned out the screams of the freshly decorated woman and her children.

"Are you accepting your fates, now?" Ladd asked aloud, pacing back and forth at the entrance. Practically frolicking even. "Do you realise this is the day you're going to die? Are your notions of your wealth making you immortal being crushed into tiny little pieces? HUH!? Who doesn't think so? Who wants to defy what happens here today? Who wants to die next?"

This crushing sense of reality had spread across the hall. Some were on their knees, tears streaming down their faces. Others stood unsure whether to fight it or accept it. The younger men stood in anger, wanting to lash out but with images of dying men still fresh in their minds. They watched as this assumed white suited leader carelessly reloaded his weapon.

The woman dressed in white still stood dead centre, having not budged an inch. The callous murder around here didn't appear to have disturbed her state of being at all, in fact it might have even improved it.

"I feel I must remind you of my only rule in the carnage that we will create," Ladd now addressed his fellow white clad men. "If the woman in the centre of the room is even disturbed by the air from your actions, I'll kill you myself."

All of Ladd's white suits stared at him, each alike him but each in fear of him. They collectively nodded.

"As for the rest of them," the grin returned to Russo's face. With a skip in his step he approached the gut shot hero on the floor, not bothering to check if he was alive or not. The trigger was pulled again, transforming the man's head into a stain on the floor. "Let's get to work."

And get to work they did. The white suits began their glorious display of violence, opening fire or swinging their blades. It sent the room into a frenzy.

Blood flowed freely throughout the air, adding a whole new dimension to the Valentine's decorations. The shrieks of terror and sound of guns provided an entirely different soundtrack. The people scurried, trying to avoid death instead of find love.

It was a scene Ladd Russo found beautiful.

"I love you! So DIE!" he proclaimed as another shotgun shell exploded from the barrel, creating a very uncomfortable hole in another victim. Ladd had also been provided with a Thompson sub-machine gun for his trouble, operating both weapons at the same time.

He casually cut down victim after victim with the Tommy gun, constantly stepping forwards as if he was creating a path for himself. Every blast of the shotgun he tended to far more personally, giving his love with each one. It was Valentine's Day after all.

The murder would not stop until every last guest at the party had fallen to the now red-stained, white suited group. Corpses littered the hall, deflated hearts laying beside them. Bullet holes were scattered across the walls so even the hearts still standing had violence connecting them. The fallen remains of flowers completed the grisly new look for the Valentine's hall.

The white suits were positioned around the site of the slaughter, comparing blood stains and satisfied egos. Ladd Russo stood before the blonde woman, still in the centre of the room. Covered in the red proof of what he'd done, he'd dropped the machine gun and poised the shotgun over his shoulder. He looked over his woman – that's who she was. Blood had even managed to stain her too.

"Lua..." he began. She tilted her head slightly in response, smiling ever so lightly. "The blood. It looks so pretty on you."

"Oh, Ladd," she whispered.

"You're who I'm saving for last. Never forget, Lua, you'll only be killed by me at the end," Ladd growled hungrily as he cut the distance between them complete. He took a hold of Lua with his free hand and dipped her down, following to kiss her with the same passion he'd used to murder only moments ago.

When he decided it was enough, Ladd brought Lua back up and put his arm around her to start ushering them out. "C'mon, white suits! We're done here. We've shared our love with everyone deserving of it. Happy Valentine's Day to all!"

The laughter would be the final thing to echo through the hall that night.


End file.
